Sunday, 30th of Afterlithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Land of Enedwaith
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| The Mournshaws |
"I see we are back to our old ways of rising well before the Sun," I said. "No doubt I have Gaelira to thank for this. What is the time?"
"About the fourth hour from midnight, I think," came Nephyn's reply, "But I am hardly sure myself as I too was only just roused by Lagodir. There is something strange going on: when we went to sleep there were a few small lamps burning here in Maur Tulhau, but now it is as dark as the dregs of an ink-pot. Let's go and see what is afoot."
After blundering about for a little while in the gloom, Nephyn and I were able to locate a small cluster of people near the town centre. Iolo Brachtu, mayor of the village, was there and speaking with Gaelira, Lagodir, and Drodie in hushed tones.
"I think this gambit of yours is wise, she-Elf," the mayor was saying, "By leaving here so soon and under cover of darkness you hide your trail. Moreover, you remove yourselves from our home, thereby keeping your promise to us while, at the same time, you set your path upon that of your enemy. He rides south and you march behind him, hidden from his eyes because you are treading the very road he himself just traveled! Very clever."
"That is my intent," answered Gaelira. "I only hope we do not somehow catch up to him unawares, but I am eager to leave your people in peace. We are very grateful for your hospitality, brief though it has been, and we know you have done much for us even in this small gesture."
"You speak the truth, perhaps more than you realize," said Brachtu. "Few if any of our folk wished to aid you directly or indirectly, for the wars and troubles of the outside world are not our concern. Still, I can see that you and your friends are not like that other one, the Man Izarrair, so I can say that you go with our goodwill and wishes of good fortune upon your journey."
"We respect the desires of these, your kind people," said Gaelira as we all bowed our heads to the mayor. "I pray indeed that you will be spared from the coming travails which threaten to engulf all lands, though none accounted wise may foresee it."
"In such matters, our own counsel shall we keep," said Brachtu.
The mayor led us to the edge of town where we bade a very quiet and solemn farewell to the inhabitants of the strangest little village I had ever yet seen in my life. We had barely gone south for half a mile when I, looking back, saw the curious crowd and any sign of the path to Maur Tulhau seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth. I wondered just how many centuries that people had lay hid among the crags of the Enedwaith and how many more might pass before anyone else from the world beyond stumbled upon their dwelling. I wished I had a chance to spend more time among them, learn their names, their crafts, and their manner of speech, but Fate would not have it so. Instead, I hefted my pack and plodded along behind the shadowy figures of my companions.
We picked our way south for a few hours. Gaelira was apparently following directions she had received from Iolo Brachtu because we made very good time: it was still a little before dawn when we came to the crossroads we had seen the day before. Here, we traversed the stream without difficulty and continued on our way. The five of us were perfectly silent. For one thing, the forest around us was quite still as the Sun began to paint the sky, but the woodland canopy quickly blotted out her light as we continued across the water and into the woods on the far side. The radiant morning was lost to us, replaced by an oppressive stuffiness as the trees seemed to press in more and more the further we walked. These were mostly oaks, I think, but they were all rather twisted and gnarled in the most unlovely fashion. Piles and piles of damp, rotting leaves were everywhere on the forest floor and gave off a pungent, malodourous reek while the only sounds were those of insects -- nary a birdsong did we hear all the time we walked among that wood. Suddenly, there came the wailing cry of some distant beast. At first I thought it was the voice of a wolf, but if it was then it was unlike any wolf-howl I had ever heard before, so forlorn and melancholy it was. We halted briefly, listening for several minutes with strained ears to make sure we were not being pursued, and then gingerly resumed our trek. The place had not been named the Mournshaws in idle fancy.
The day drug on yet the light grew dimmer the further we went. We stopped for lunch (or what we felt might have been lunch, since the Sun was lost behind the tangled boughs overhead), then we pressed on again. It was some time later when we came upon a rather unusual sight: about a dozen large stones, all arranged in some sort of circular pattern. They were of immense size -- I should say at least fourteen feet high -- and most were set on edge in pairs with another, smaller stone lying across their tops. The effect was like looking at a series of high, stone doors, all of which faced inward on each other to a central point. That point was a beautiful green sward, and a bright shaft of the Sun's light stabbing down on it through a break in the trees above gave it a mystical appearance. We stopped our march, and there was not a sound to be heard in any direction.
"What is this place?" whispered Nephyn. None of us seemed eager to break the eerie silence which hung like a cloud over that clearing.
"And who placed these stones here?" I asked, my eyes wide with wonder. "Certainly not our little friends from Maur Tulhau."
"More importantly," said Lagodir with an uneasy frown, "What is their purpose?"
"Pah, it's just an altar, most likely -- some place for ancient ceremonial rites," said Drodie, but even he did not allow his voice to rise above a whisper.
"I do not know," Gaelira said, "But I think we should move on from here -- I distrust the uncanny silence."
To this we all heartily agreed. We began to move around the western edge of the stone circle, keeping it always a good distance to our left. Suddenly, we schlooped right into a thick, muddy puddle that was well-hidden by the forest undergrowth. No doubt it had been a collection point for much of the heavy rains which had pummeled that country the day before last.
"Ack!" I cried as I withdrew my feet from the sticky mess, "What rotten luck! I had disliked this wood already, but now --"
"Wait! No one move," commanded Nephyn. We froze and the young huntress bent over to examine the viscous earth.
"A shod horse passed this way," she whispered. "And very recently, unless I am much mistaken." Once she had called our attention to it, the marks were plain to see: it appeared we were following the exact same path, in a wide circle around the edge of the standing stones.
"Izarrair," said Gaelira grimly. "We should strike out in another direction at once."
"Why not go that way?" I asked and pointed toward the east. There, the murk of the trees grew less, and there even appeared to be a golden haze some distance on which might have been sunlight. The Company leaped at the prospect of seeing the sky again, so we immediately left our course and headed for the thinning treeline. It was a good step, but eventually we could see that the Sun was, in fact, shining down in that place and that it continued to do so both north and south of where we were headed.
"Why, it might well be a creek, or even a river," said Nephyn. We hurried our pace.
And so it was: a heady river which flowed south down from the highlands to our right. It had a swift current and the banks were overgrown with shrubs and rushes, but we five were only grateful to feel the free wind on our faces once more. We followed the river south a ways before Nephyn suggested we cross it since doing so would wash away our scent and make tracking us more difficult, if anyone was so inclined.
Accomplishing this took a bit of effort, for the river proved swift and strong, but after wading out in several places to test the depth with the lower limb of her bow, Nephyn located a spot which was shallow enough for us to ford easily enough. The water came up past my waist, but even I did not need to be carried across. Once we were on the western bank we began to make excellent time. The trees were spaced much further apart and the increased airflow made us feel rejuvenated. Many miles slid by as quickly as the rushing river in its reedy bed.
We continued on like this for a fair ways until I was abruptly yanked by the cloak into a knot of rushes. Both Nephyn and Gaelira clapped a hand over my mouth, but I could already see the cause of their alarm: as I peeped through the reeds eastward across the river, there on the far bank stood an imposing figure on horseback. I also saw that Lagodir and Drodie had remained in sight and drawn their weapons.
"Hold, drudge of Mordor," Drodie called in challenge. "Do not think to cross this river, if you wish your limbs to remain attached to the rest of you!"
"Hail, heroes," came Izarrair's cold voice from across the water. "I did not think to cross paths with you again so soon. So, you are making for Dunland? What is your business in that worthless land, I wonder? And where are the other three simpletons which follow in your train? Lost themselves in the haunted woodlands, perhaps?" He laughed.
"The others have gone off with the Elf," Lagodir answered.
"I am not a fool, Gondorian, so pray do not speak to me as one! Wherever you go the others are sure to be nearby. Hiding in the rushes, are they? Protecting the females and the little rat-footed holbytlan you picked up in this wretched place, I guess? I would like very much to know why you keep that one around. But you need have no fear of me just yet, Lagodir, honoured guest of Mordor: Izarrair does not disobey orders for any cause -- certainly not for your inconsequential neck. When I strike at you it will be at a time and a place of my own choosing; you shall watch as your friends fall one by one, and then I will see you hauled back to Minas Morgul in chains."
"NEVER!" Lagodir roared, and he even jumped into the river so to get at the horseman, but the current proved too strong for him and he was obliged to cease his attack. Izarrair merely laughed at his efforts.
"Bested by a little water, I see," he mocked. "Just how much of your old self is left, I wonder? We shall put it to the test one day, but not yet, my friend. Not yet." With that, Izarrair turned his horse and sped away southward at a hard gallop.
Nephyn, Gaelira, and I rejoined the others once the horseman was out of sight. None of us knew what to make of his words other than the obvious fact he was under orders from Amarthiel and that, whatever his mission, it must be one of terrible importance. We remained on the west bank of the river all the rest of that day as we continued our journey south. None of us spoke, but I think each of us was puzzling over why Izarrair seemed determined to keep us at arm's length.
The Sun had sunk behind the hills to the west when we finally decided to cross the river again. There was no easy place to ford, so I clambered up onto Lagodir's back as the Company swam to the other side. We camped on the very edge of the Mournshaws and lit a fire to dry our wet clothes while Nephyn and I stared off into the south.
"Dunland," she said, her voice heavy with emotion. "To think, my mother once lived somewhere in this land, and tomorrow I shall set foot upon its soil."
I nodded, but found no words to say. The region which lay before us looked hard and rocky to my eyes, with few trees and many crags while the river continued its swift journey on ahead. Looking down the banks, I suddenly marked a tiny light appear. Then there was another, and another! I blinked as I realized I was looking at the dim outline of a small, rustic village that was perched on a little island out in the midst of the river and connected to the shore by a rickety wooden bridge.
"Neph, look!" I said and pointed. "A town! Or what might pass for a town in Dunland, at any rate -- I think there can't be more than a dozen huts all told."
We brought this news to the others around the campfire, but no one else seemed terribly excited by it. Gaelira was interested only so far as she mused the inhabitants might be able to tell us which way Izarrair had gone while Drodie just wanted to know whether they might sell him some beer. Lagodir, meanwhile, had suddenly become very intent on stoking the fire (which didn't really look like it needed stoking at all).
It was an awkward evening. Gaelira was on the watch, Drodie was whetting his axe, Lagodir was quiet and withdrawn (for reasons I never found out that night), and Nephyn was brooding upon the prospect of entering the region where, almost thirty years prior, her mother had been escaping slavery at the hands of the Dunlendings. I wanted more than anything to talk to her, to find out what was going through her mind, but I knew she would never allow it -- I had already betrayed her trust once by copying down the personal letter she had written long ago in Rivendell which laid out her family history (so far as it was known), and I could not openly discuss that, not even among our closest friends, without her permission. And getting away to speak in private was no option with Izarrair and whatever other dangers lurking in the darkness.
After a while I engrossed myself in my writing while Nephyn (whose turn it was) prepared supper. It had been a most unusual day and there was a lot to get down, and soon no sight, sound, or smell beyond my work was able to disrupt my concentration. I had just finished describing the strange standing stones when something blocked my vision. It was a hand -- Nephyn's hand. She was holding a wafer of cram into the midst of which she had thrust a carrot-stalk. I put down my journal and stared at her in confusion. Her face was lit with an enormous smile, and I could see she was trying desperately not to laugh. The others were also watching me and seemed greatly amused, but I had no idea what was so entertaining. I blinked uncomprehendingly at the weird concoction as I took it from her hand.
"Um, Neph..." I asked finally, "What is this?"
"Happy Birthday!" she cried, and the others wished me the same. I laughed aloud.
"Well, bless me!" I said with a smile, "I was worried you had all lost your wits there for a moment. On second thought, maybe you have -- my birthday isn't for another twenty-one days yet, that being the twentieth of Wedmath when I'll turn thirty-seven years old. You're three weeks early!"
"Oh, well, you know," Nephyn hawed, "I remembered you mentioning your birthday was coming up next month, and that starts tomorrow. Besides, we all looked like we needed a laugh after what we've been through these last couple of days, so I made you a little something special."
"What, this?" I asked as I held up the carrot-impaled biscuit. "What on earth is this supposed to be, anyway?"
"Why, it's carrot-cake!" she giggled and the Company rolled with laughter, heedless of the watchful night.
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